Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

7:12AM

Whitaker was already overwhelmed. The amount of patients in the waiting room had done nothing to subdue his anxiety. And now he was face-to-face with probably the most attractive man he had ever seen. The med student bit his lip involuntarily, looking him up and down. God. 

"As you can see we have some new faces with us this morning. Good morning, good morning come on over.” His attending instructed. He was wearing a navy hoodie that definitely wasn't new and had his hands absent-mindedly placed in the pockets. His beard had a dusting of grey hairs that made Whitaker’s mind wonder about other (less workplace appropriate) places where he would be greying.

Now a bit lightheaded, he felt Dr Robby’s eyes linger on him as the others introduced themselves. Whitaker swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. He looked away, now out to the bustling atmosphere of patients and doctors, begging his brain to calm down. He was on edge before - the amount of patients in the waiting room had slightly overwhelmed him, but this was a completely freakish reaction. 

Shifting his feet back and forth, he kept replaying the older man’s voice in his head. It was gruff, but warm. Something about it was intangibly alluring; it left him thinking of what it would sound like if he was letting out breathy moans against his ear. He shivered at the thought. Guilt rushed to his chest but another part of him didn’t care. This part of him formed a goal. He would get as close to this man as possible. 

Tuning back into the conversation, his fellow interns were done introducing themselves. His attending looked at him. Whitaker felt need build in his stomach at the eye contact. 

“Uh, Dennis Whitaker, MS4.” He played with his hands as he spoke, trying to calm his nerves. His attending looking at him made him feel funny. He needed to push these feelings down if he was going to get through this shift.

7:21AM

This was the closest Dr Robby had been to him ever and to say Whitaker was not handling it well would probably be an understatement. 

He had so far been stuck at the back of the huddle of student doctors following Dr Robby. But this was different. Now he was right behind the older man, being able to really take in how much larger he was. His face flushed. What was wrong with him? Maybe it was some sort of weird way his brain was coping with the stressful situation of a new environment. He did not enjoy this one bit.

Whitaker looked down at his feet, then to the patient he was supposed to be attending to. He needed to push these thoughts away, and focus. 

7:27AM

“Dr Robby? She, uh, took a fall.” Whitaker took in the sight of his attending again. It had been roughly 5 minutes since they last... sort of... interacted and he was still feeling weird whenever he looked at him. 

“I tripped on the gurney, I’m fine.” Javadi had taken a few steps forward when explaining herself to Dr Robby, putting distance between her and Whitaker to really try and emphasise how fine she was. 

Whitaker shook his head at her words. It was like sharing a secret with Dr Robby, just something for the both of them to know was happening and their colleagues being none the wiser. He swallowed. Something very inappropriate came to mind because of that comparison. He should really know better.

Robby’s eyes darted away from Whitaker and onto Javadi. Wait, Dr Robby had been looking at him? “Why don’t you go get a cold drink in the staff lounge?” He suggested to her. There was that kindness. He was glad he was his boss. 

“I’m fine, really, I swear!” Javadi practically pleaded. She was desperate to keep working.

Whitaker looked down. Maybe he should leave and let them talk. He had patients, after all. He felt a slight bitterness seeing Dr Robby take care of other people. He did not want to linger on this feeling. Or what it could mean. He had known the man barely half an hour and he was already thinking of him so possessively. He was disgusted with himself. This wasn’t like him at all. He needed to stop thinking of every interaction so inappropriately. Dr Robby wouldn’t think of him in that way so he just needs to push it all down. But also it wasn’t like Dr Robby could read his thoughts, so maybe a little bit was okay.

“Other way.” Dr Robby told Javadi, who then turned on her heel and headed the other way. Whitaker was surprised she was actually going to the staff lounge, he thought she had more fight in her.

Whitaker looked at Dr Robby wearing glasses. Oh God. Since when was he wearing glasses? He looked irresistible. Whitaker was probably staring. He was definitely staring. If Dr Robby looked up and saw him staring he wasn't sure what he would do. He needed to get away from this situation. Definitely saving that image for later though. I mean… it would be a waste to just imagine that. Maybe he could take a quick photo… no one was looking at him, right? Dr Robby was focused on reading something, he definitely could… Nope. Nope. Nope. Bad thoughts. That’s your boss. Don’t take photos of him to jerk off to later. That’s bad. He turned on his heel and speed walked away, keeping his head down. 

7:33AM

“Here we go, 1, 2, 3.” Robby said as they all lifted up the patient.

Whitaker helped, getting his hand trapped underneath the patient. He yelped, clutching his hand. It really fucking hurt. He felt so embarrassed. It did not help that Dr Robby was right beside him, face etched with concern despite not looking at him. As horrible as it probably was to think such a thing, he was grateful he wasn’t the worst performing student today. Maybe he shouldn’t have wished Robby would take care of him several minutes ago when he told Javadi to take a break. 

He wasn’t weak by any means, just probably could have positioned his hand better so it wasn’t directly underneath the heavy thing they were trying to set down. He was so off his game today. Probably because a certain doctor who will not be named had him feeling all sorts of things. 

“Students are dropping like flies.” Langdon joked. 

“Take a break, ice the finger.” Robby said, not looking at him. God, he wished he would look at him. Maybe touch his hurt hand. Cradle it, turn it over… rub his thumb against his palm to soothe him… his hands were so much larger than his. Rougher. He could -- snap out of it Whitaker. 

Whitaker was thrown back into reality when Robby pushed past him to leave the room. He just watched him go. What else could he have done?

7:35AM

Dr Robby was back in the room. Whitaker just gazed at him. His natural stance of having his arms crossed across his chest or in his pockets was so… charming to him. He had a magnetic pull somehow. Wherever he was, Whitaker’s eyes followed.

“Stop! Call it. Nursing home just faxed us a DNR.” The head nurse stood at the entrance of the room.

“Are you kidding me?” Dr Langdon exclaimed, exasperated. 

“Power off the defibrillator and the LUCAS.” Dr Mohan instructed.

“Complete waste of time and money, who the hell works at that place?” Dr Langdon looked frustrated. Whitaker wasn’t sure what to make of him so far. He seemed to be all over the place. If this was his usual state it was certainly strange.

“A nurse, taking care of 60 patients who couldn’t find the form.” Robby said. He was so kind. Thinking of others. Not blaming them. Taking their situation into consideration when evaluating their performance. 

“She called 911 so she could take care of the others.” The head nurse added.

“Okay, let's move her to the viewing room and notify the family.” Dr Robby's voice was lower when he said this, mostly speaking to the head nurse, who Whitaker couldn’t quite remember the name of.

“Yep.” She left the room. Langdon tried to leave too but Dr Robby pushed in front of him, blocking him by putting his hand on the wall. Whitaker squeaked. Hopefully quiet enough so no one noticed. If Trinity heard that she would’ve made fun of him forever. He also wasn’t too sure of what to make of her. If he had to describe her, he would maybe say ‘aggressive’ but not really in a violent way. She was definitely an older sister. She had that sort of energy. 

He blinked, trying to pay attention to what was happening and realising they were having a moment of silence for the patient. He had just been kind of looking at Dr Robby and not paying attention to most of the words he was saying. Well, he had been looking at Dr Robby’s chest. Wondering if it was hairy. It probably was. Some of it would be grey. The thought made his throat tighten. 

Dr Langdon bounced his legs in place, seemingly desperate to leave. Just then, probably the worst thing that could’ve happened, happened. Whitaker's phone went off. He quickly rummaged through his pockets, switching it off.

“I am so sorry.” He held a hand up, mostly looking at Dr Robby. He felt so guilty.

“Maybe leave it on vibrate while you’re working.” He said, then led the others out of the room. Whitaker followed, swallowing his shame. 

7:40AM

Whitaker probably had some time to spare, if anything. No one would notice a med student being in the bathroom for slightly too long. Running into Dr Mohan, he asked her where the bathroom was and she pointed him in the right direction.

Heading into the men's bathroom, he went into one of the few stalls and let a hand wander down his scrubs. He was so wet. The correct word could be 'gushing.' He knew it would be bad but he didn't expect it to be this bad. Considering how pent up he was, he might be able to get this done quickly. He really wished he had that photo now. Maybe he could find something online. His best bet was probably the hospital's website. He doubted Dr Robby had any public social media accounts, if any at all.

God, was he really about to do this? He was really about to do this. He looked up the site and surprisingly there was a photo. It seemed to be from a couple years ago. He let the bottom part of his scrubs hang around his ankles as he teased at his throbbing dick through the fabric of his pants. He snuck his hand under his pants and felt up his dick, then let his fingers wander to his cunt where he pushed in a knuckle, feeling his legs wobble. He balanced his phone on the hook on the door, definitely unsteady but he needed both his hands free to touch himself. He desperately chased his release for several minutes, closing his eyes and picturing his attending playing with his body. His fingers would be thicker, powerful. The thought made him see stars.

He pushed another finger inside of him. “Sir…” He whined, scissoring himself open. His hands were trembling now. He had been in here a while, he wondered how long. Were people looking for him? His thighs were so wet, his lower half slick with sweat. 

The door to the bathroom swung open. The noise startled Whitaker, causing his phone to fall face down on the tile. Shit. Hopefully it wasn't too cracked...

“Whitaker? Is that you in there?” It was Dr Robby. Of course.

“Yeah. It, uh, i-is.” He stammered out, frozen in place. He wondered if he was mad. 

“Are you… okay?” He asked. “Dr Mohan said you seemed upset when you asked her where the bathroom was.”

“Uh. Yeah. I’ll just be 2 more minutes?” He choked out. “Then I’ll come – out of here. And help with patients” Great save, Whitaker. Great save.

“Ah. Okay. I’ll just wait here then.” He could hear Dr Robby lean against the wall.

“Are- are you sure? Surely its more important for you to be out there. I’m fine, I’ll be out in a bit.” Whitaker panicked. He was not sure how to go about this situation. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Dr Robby said. 

Whitaker felt his heart skip a beat. He was so awful. Beating off to the thought of his lovely, kind, handsome boss who just wanted to make sure his underlings were okay. 

“I would, um, prefer it if you left if that’s okay. If I’m not out within 2 minutes you can come back.” He hoped this hadn’t hurt Dr Robby’s feelings, or made it so they wouldn’t interact as much. He wouldn’t want to make the man think he was uncomfortable with his presence, but there wasn’t much of a way out of this with him waiting outside the stall. 

There were several beats of palpable silence as Dr Robby thought this over. “Okay. Come find me later.” 

Whitaker swallowed. What the fuck just happened?

Chapter Text

8:01AM

Whitaker listened out for the door shutting, and sighed with relief once it had. Jesus Christ. That was definitely not a situation he wanted to be in again. 

He grimaced as he removed his fingers from his slick cunt. He was not going to enjoy the next several hours, but at least he had the shift ending to look forward to. He could relieve himself then, however for now he was going to be the most pent up he had ever been for several hours. Great. 

The med student grabbed a handful of toilet paper and set about drying himself as much as he could. It was still going to be very much uncomfortable tending to patients in this state but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

After washing his hands, he grabbed his phone and left, making sure to save the photo of Dr Robby before he left the bathroom.

8:03AM

“Where… where are we going now?” Mr Milton asked as he was being pushed out of his room. Whitaker cursed himself under his breath, he should have told the patient before they just started moving him what was happening. Oh well.

“We need the room for someone else, but you can rest in the hall until we get your labs back.” He replied with a nervous smile. He needed to stop thinking about Dr Robby. He was so distracted today.

“Your parents must be proud, having a son as a doctor.” Mr Milton said. Whitaker felt himself freeze. How the Hell was he going to respond to that?

“Yeah, I guess.” He had never really thought about it like that. He doubted his parents had either. “Um, you know, I was the first one in my family to go to college. They sacrificed a lot to get me here.” It was like he was following a script, not really meaning anything he said. Did they really sacrifice anything? 

He then remembered he was in front of a patient and snapped back into reality. “How’s your pain, Mr Milton?” 

“Um. I’m fine, could use a latte though.” He replied.

Whitaker took a second to consider this. “That could bring back the gallstone pain.” He said, sympathetically. 

“How about a bourbon?” Mr Milton jested.

Whitaker chuckled. Maybe Mr Milton could tell that talking about his parents left him slightly down. The thought made him happy. He was glad he was able to build such a rapport with a patient despite working in the ER. “It’s barely 8:00… Uh, how about some ice chips?”

“No thanks, I prefer my whiskey neat.” He shot down Whitaker’s suggestion jokingly.

“Yeah, that's not happening.” Whitaker replied with a smile.

8:11AM

Whitaker was hurrying finishing filling out a form about a patient, about to hand it to Dr Collins. Wait, was Dr Robby looking at him? Swallowing, he held out the form but was left hanging as Robby pulled Collins aside. Oh. Ok. So he wasn’t looking at him. That’s fine. 

Whitaker attempted to slide past Dr Robby, racing to catch up with Dr Collins.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.” Robby tutted, placing a gentle hand on his back. Whitaker felt a shiver creep through his body. Fuck, his hand was warm. Why was it so warm? The only real point of contact was tips of his fingers grazing the bare skin above the hem of his scrubs. Even then, Dr Robby had gloves on. So why did this one action drive him so crazy?

His hold lowered, sliding down his back and across the underside of arm before separating. Whitaker stifled the urge to whimper. He was not making it through this shift.

“Got something?” He was smiling, the wrinkles near his eyes coming together beautifully. 

Whitaker gulped, and felt like a dog caught with a shoe in its mouth. If Robby told him ‘roll over, boy’ he probably would. Looking into his eyes, Whitaker was reminded of when Dr Robby was wearing glasses earlier. He tried to picture it. He regretted not taking that photo earlier when he had the opportunity. His imagination was so hazy now. 

“Oh, I had a case for Dr Collins.” He hoped that sounded casual. If anything, he was glad he didn’t blurt out ‘please touch me some more I really liked it’ or ‘can I be your dog.’

“May I see?” Robby looked down at him, still smiling slightly. He was such a nice boss, a good doctor, and Whitaker paid him back by thinking of him in such an inappropriate way. 

“Yeah. Uh, a 68-year-old male, history of hypertension, one hour of right upper quadrant pain after eating a fatty meal, now resolved. Afebrile, non-tender, there was a gallstone present on POCUS.” Holy shit was Dr Robby making prolonged eye contact with him now? He could’ve sworn his eyes moved from holding his gaze to look at his lips, but maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he was having some sort of mental breakdown and that's why he had been feeling so weird for the past hour. That was probably the most plausible explanation. 

He wasn’t sure if he could continue sounding sure of himself if he kept contemplating how Dr Robby felt about him. “EKG shows no acute ischemic changes, but I’m still waiting on LFTs and lipase.”

“Why did you order the EKG?” Dr Robby questioned.

“The nurse suggested it to rule out any cardiac issues.” Whitaker answered.

“Well, good call on both your parts.” Dr Robby handed the file back to him. “Nurses know what they’re doing, never hesitate to listen to them.” Whitaker nodded. “Come find me when those labs are back.”

“Yeah.” Whitaker ducked his head, on his way to leave the room. 

“Hey, how’s that finger?” Dr Robby called after him and Whitaker froze like a deer in headlights. 

“Oh, its nothing.” He said. Dr Robby turned his back as one of the nurses started talking to him about something. Nothing? Really? Is that what he just said? That’s how he holds a conversation now? He sighed. He would have more opportunities to talk to him later, really it was fine. He was glad he got to be touched by him at all. 

It still felt like the ghost of his hand was stroking his back, he pictured it moving lower to squeeze his waist. He wondered what Dr Robby’s ungloved hand would feel like touching his body. These were dangerous thoughts. Considering it more, he didn’t really mind the material of the glove. It felt nauseatingly good to be reminded they were at work, that Dr Robby was his superior. That he was thinking something dirty while on the clock. He really wished he had a spare 30 minutes to spend in the bathroom.

8:28AM

“This guy's wearing the spring, summer, and fall collection. Oh, Jesus, WHOA-” R/Donnie exclaimed, jumping back after cutting the patient's clothes.

A couple of rats scampered out of the man's clothes, running around the ER. 

This caught Robby’s attention. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” His voice was soft, assessing the situation. 

“Patient tested positive for rats.” Whitaker joked. He could not handle his voice being soft. 

“No.“ Collins speedwalked away. Clearly she was not very fond of rodents.

“If it matters I only counted three!” He called after Dr Collins, who was quite far now. “Oh, there goes one.” Whitaker pointed down at the ground. 

Dr Robby chuckled at the scene. Whitaker sheepishly chuckled back. Dr Robby had a nice laugh.

8:50AM

“Mr Milton, I’m sorry we had to move you into the hall… I know it gets pretty chaotic and noisy out here” Whitaker chuckled softly, then realised the patient's unconscious state. 

“Mr Milton? Hey, Bennett, wake up for me –” He wasn’t waking up. Shit. Whitaker felt his pulse. Weak. “Oh shit, shit – shit. Um, I need a little help here!” He started chest compressions.

“When did you check on him last?” Donnie asked.

“I don’t know, around half an hour ago at most I was waiting on labs.” Whitaker’s voice was shaky.

“What’s going on?” Dr Robby. He was here. 

“It’s my gallstone guy – you saw his EKG.” Whitaker answered.

“Unknown downtime, he was sleeping in the hall.”

“Crash cart, let's go!”

“Hold compressions.”

“Resume compressions.”

He wasn’t even paying attention to who was speaking at this point. He just kept pushing. Stopping only when he was told to. 

“Slow… slow tempo. Slow tempo.” Dr Robby’s voice was gentle. He looked at his attending, slowing his actions. Everyone’s eyes were on him. Watching him fail. Watching him lose a patient. This was all his fault. 

Someone said something. 

“Been down a long time.” Robby replied, nodding. Whitaker was determined to keep going, no matter how discouraging hearing that was. If there was a microscopic chance of saving Mr Milton he had to keep going.

8:59AM

Whitaker was sweating. 

“We switch out every few minutes, you can take a break.” A nurse said. 

“I’m fine.” Whitaker replied, a drop of moisture falling onto his shaking hands.

Dr Robby just looked at him. Whitaker could feel his gaze. It felt like pity. 

“Hold compressions.” He said, and Whitaker looked at him, then at the monitor. 

“Still an asystole.” Mel said.

“Resume compressions.” Robby instructed.

“Well, should we shock him?” Whitaker asked. He was desperate.

“You don’t shock an asystole.” Mel advised. 

“We could be fine v-fib…” He suggested, trailing off. Part of him knew it would be impossible. Another part of him would not accept this possibility. He could not let his patient die. He was going to do anything. They were in a hospital, they had to be able to save him.

“Not a chance.” Robby was brutally honest.

“Okay, uh, when was his last EPI?” Whitaker asked, looking around. There had to be a solution to this.

“3 minutes ago.” One of the nurses replied.

“Well, ACLS says every 3 to 5 minutes, right? So let's push another amp.” Whitaker argued, he was on the brink of mania.

“Fine.” Robby then turned to talk to the head nurse. Once they were done, he turned back to Whitaker.

“3 rounds of EPI, and then… call it.” He said, leaving with her.

Chapter Text

9:04AM

“It’s not a cadaver lab.” Dr Robby shot down Santos proposing trying a pericardial synthesis on the patient.

“What do you call this?” She gestured towards Whitaker’s futile attempt to perform a resurrection.

He was drenched now, hair sticking to his forehead. He swallowed. If he stopped, it would mean that he killed this man. His patient. 

They all just watched him. “Do you need a break?” Mel asked.  

“I’m fine.” Whitaker pushed the words through gritted teeth.

“You don’t look fine.” Mel responded.

“Hold compressions.” Robby instructed. Whitaker blinked, removing his hands from Mr Milton’s chest and standing aside as they all looked at the monitor.

“Okay, Whitaker. I think that's enough.” Robby said gently. 

“It’s been 4 minutes since the last EPI. One more minute, please.” He looked around desperately, pleading with Dr Robby. He sighed, looking at his watch. 

They waited in silence for the minute to pass.

“5 minutes since the last EPI.” A nurse finally said.

“Okay, that’s it. Hold compressions.” Robby told Whitaker. He had failed.

9:06AM

“Come on, you heard Dr Robby, let's take a break. Grab a coffee.” Donnie suggested.

“No, I'm fine, thank you.” Maybe he shouldn’t be so cold to his colleagues. He couldn’t help it right now. Donnie walked away. It was just him and Mel by Mr Milton now.

Mel was humming, her hands clasped together. It reminded Whitaker of prayer, though he was sure that wasn’t what she was doing. 

“Did you know him?” He asked. 

“No I didn’t, did you?” She replied.

“Just met him. He was my first patient to die.” His eyes flicked to her, then to the body separating them. 

“I’m sorry.” She said, going back to humming. Whitaker thought to himself in silence for a bit.

“Are–are you okay?” He checked, his brow furrowed.

“Mhm, yeah.” She nodded, assuring him.

“Are you sure?” He didn’t really believe her.

“I- just- um. Remembering the first time that, um… On occasion, I have an emotional response to death.” Mel stumbled over her words.

“Gotta be kinda tough for a doctor.” He sympathised. Although, it was probably normal to have an emotional response to death. He wasn't sure he was normal. 

“Yeah, at times it can be. At least I’m not a pathologist… ha.” Mel looked alarmed, and her tone suddenly changed. “I was joking.”

“Oh.” Whitaker said.

“I have nothing against pathologists.” It seemed very important to her that Whitaker understood she was joking.

“Yeah….” He felt a bit awkward.

9:12AM

“Okay, good. Does anybody have anything that they wish had gone differently?” Dr Robby looked around the room. 

“In the hall, he should've been on a cardiac monitor.” Whitaker crossed his arms to his chest. “We would have caught the arrest right away.”

“That's true, but there was no indication for monitoring. And we now know that his abdominal pain was not from his gallstones, but from unstable angina due to coronary heart disease.” Dr Robby explained. He was trying to get him to understand none of this was his fault. 

“Then we should have admitted to cardiology.” Whitaker argued.

“Mm, we did an EKG. We did a troponin. He had a HEART score of 3. Who can tell me what that means?” Dr Robby looked around the room.

“1% chance of an adverse cardiac event in the next 30 days.” Dr Langdon was the first to answer.

“Standard of care is to discharge with outpatient follow-up.” Dr Collins added.

“He was your patient, Dr Whitaker, would you like to say something before we all take a brief moment of silent reflection?” Dr Robby asked, and Whitaker swallowed. Was that the first time Dr Robby had referred to him as doctor?

“Um… He liked Kentucky bourbon…?” He said sheepishly. 

“Okay, good. Me too. Anything else?” Dr Robby replied with a chuckle.

“I don’t know, I just met him.” Whitaker thought back to the conversation where he talked about his parents. “No, he seemed nice. He was married… um, that’s it. That’s all I got. I–”

Mel suddenly clapped and Robby looked at her. She held her hands to her neck, feeling awkward.

“I spoke with his wife. She’s on her way here.” Kiara said. “If anyone needs to talk about this some more, I’m available."

Dr Robby nodded. “For now let's harness some good thoughts here for Mr Milton.”  

Everyone looked down at their feet for the moment of silence. Whitaker couldn’t stop feeling guilty. 

“Okay, that's it. Let’s go save some lives.” Dr Robby said, trying to keep his eyes off of Whitaker, who couldn’t seem to be doing worse.

“Hey Whitaker.” Robby cleared his throat. “How are you feeling on this?”

He felt like he was being kept after class by a teacher who could sense he was having an ‘off day.’ Whitaker exhaled. He would rather not remind himself of those years. “I mean, not good. I was just talking to him, now he's dead.” 

“That’s the hardest way to lose a patient.” Dr Robby sympathised, his hands buried deep in his pockets. “It always hurts.”

“Especially when it's your fault.” Whitaker said, bitter. 

“This was not your fault.” Dr Robby shook his head. “This was nobody’s fault. No doctor on the planet could've caught this. Listen, it sucks, but today—today was this guy's day to leave this mortal coil. 150,000 people die every day in the world, and you got one of them. But you learn to live with it, you learn to accept it as much as your own mortality and find balance if you can.”

“You’ve found balance?” Whitaker smiled a bit at this, he didn’t believe him. He was glad Dr Robby was trying to give him advice, glad that he cared.

“No, not even close. But, you know, you keep trying, which is all you can do.” Dr Robby reached out a hand, shaking Whitaker by the shoulder. It was sort of demeaning, like a ‘hey, good job kid.’ He was, however, thankful that Robby was touching him again.

“You’re doing great, Whitaker. Just, you know, hang in there.” Dr Robby patted his shoulder. Whitaker would laugh if he didn’t feel like crying. He was so bad at comforting people. How was he a doctor?

“Yeah, thanks.” Whitaker moved to leave, and so did Dr Robby, causing them to bump into each other. 

“I’m just gonna go–” Dr Robby pointed in the direction he was trying to go in, and they bumped into each other again.

“Yeah.” Whitaker said awkwardly, going in the opposite direction.

“But you know our social worker Kiara is here if you want to talk.” Dr Robby held his hand up, like he was about to pat Whitaker on the back but he didn’t for some reason, and it was just left there. Hanging. 

Whitaker’s brow furrowed briefly at this, but he tried to ignore it. He then nodded at Dr Robby’s advice, knowing he probably wouldn’t want to talk. “Okay, yeah.”

9:25AM

Whitaker approached Dr Robby (who was talking to Dr Collins) from behind. 

“Code STEMI was fast.” He said, and he could swear Dr Robby jumped a bit from his sudden appearance. The thought was amusing.

“Time is myocardium.” Dr Robby said matter-of-factly, throwing away his gloves. “And our statistics for door to balloon time get reviewed, critiqued and published online.” His hands were in his pockets again. It was kind of a shame. He had nice hands

“Door to balloon time?” Whitaker asked.

“The time from when they hit our door to when the angioplasty balloon gets inflated in the cath lab.” His arms were crossed now. “We keep it to under  51 minutes, we can reverse a heart attack and save a life.”

“Kind of wish Mr Milton had a STEMI.” Whitaker chuckled sadly. “Thank you for letting me go the distance on him. I really thought we’d get him back, you know?” 

“Yeah, well, you know, even though you do everything right you don't always get what you hope for.” Dr Robby then walked away. 

What a bad way to end a conversation.

9:36AM

Robby spotted Whitaker staring at the patient board.

“Best to just grab one and jump back in.” Dr Robby advised.

“Yeah, right.” He replied. Dr Robby wasn’t totally convinced Whitaker actually paid attention to what he just said.

“Mr Fulton in Central 14 just needs a shot of Mylanta for his GERD, and to avoid eating foods with the words ‘flaming hot’ in their title for at least a few days.” He suggested.

“Okay, thanks.” Whitaker stood up to leave, heading in the wrong direction.

“Central 14.” Dr Robby pointed in the opposite direction to where Whitaker was heading 

“Yeah.” Whitaker hurried off the right way this time. Embarrassing…

9:37AM

“Could I get some Mylanta for Mr. Fulton in Central 14?” Whitaker asked.

“It'll be a while. If you want it fast go check out the employee first aid cabinet.” Perlah said.

“Where is that?" Whitaker asked.

“In the lounge. I'll show you.” Dr Mohan offered. They started to walk to the employee lounge together. “How’s it going?” 

Whitaker grimaced. “Not so great. I lost a patient.”

“So I heard.” Dr Mohan replied. “I also heard it wasn’t your fault.” 

“Doesn’t make it feel any better.” He sighed. They arrived in the lounge and Dr Mohan pointed out the first aid cabinet. 

“Yeah it doesn't, I'm sorry.” Dr Mohan sympathised. “Unfortunately it comes with the job. If it's any consolation I just got scolded for going too slow. If you hear someone talking about a slow-mo that's me” She said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Guaranteed you’re going faster than me.” Whitaker replied, holding the Mylanta.

“I like to say it gets easier. Some days it does. I’m sure the rest of your shift will be better” She assured him “Shake it first.” Turning away as Whitaker spilled the entire contents of the bottle over himself. 

“Oh but make sure the lid is–” Dr Mohan sighed as she saw the liquid splattered all over Whitaker. “...screwed down tight.”

9:40AM

Whitaker stood in front of the scrub dispenser machine. He has been met with an infuriating ‘Insufficient credits’ screen two times now. “Hey, there’s no scrubs in here.” He told Perlah as she walked by.

“Yeah, you have to put your old ones in before it’ll give you a new pair.” She replied.

“...What?” Whitaker groaned as he realised his only solution. 

9:41AM

“Forgive me, Mr Milton.” All of the stalls in the men’s bathroom were occupied so instead of waiting he opted to change next to his former patient.

He quickly put on the patient gown, holding his messed-up scrubs. 

Santos caught him as he was making his way back to the machine. “Hey, you missed the best action of the day.”

Whitaker nodded. “I heard. What happened?”

“Father of the brain-dead son goes after another patient he thinks gave the son the drugs that killed him.” Santos explained.

“Jesus. How do you deal with that?” Whitaker grimaced.

“No fuckin’ idea.” Santos turned to face Whitaker, looking down at the patient gown he had on. “Whoa, what happened here? Did we have an accident?” 

He looked at her incredulously. “Do you think I'm wearing this by choice?”

“Was it number one or number two?” She teased. 

“I just got some stuff spilled on me.” 

“Was it a bodily fluid, and was it yours?” Santos clearly found the whole thing very funny.

“No and no.” He replied, firmly. 

“Oh, was it from when you killed that guy?” 

“I did not — that guy had a massive MI in his sleep.” 

“Relax Huckleberry I’m just fucking with you.” Santos chuckled. “Truth is you're not a real doctor until you've lost at least one patient. You got off easy, it wasn't your fault. Not all of us can take comfort in saying that. But, uhh, try not to kill anybody else” she said with a smile, walking away

9:42AM

Whitaker finally had fresh scrubs. Changing in the bathroom this time, he thought about his last conversation with Dr Robby. How he said ‘you don’t always get what you hope for.’ What a way to leave a conversation. 

He froze as he heard the door open. Damn it. He was just about to leave. He wasn’t even sure what was stopping him, using the men’s bathroom was always a bit of a gamble. He didn’t really know how well he passed, it always ended up being a 50/50 of whether he was gendered correctly, though he supposed he was basing that off people in his hometown. Maybe it was fine. 

The door opened again. “Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you. We need a cardiovert unstable AFib in North 1.” It was Dr Langdon.

“Okay, just give me a sec.” Dr Robby.

“Systolic’s 90.” Dr Langdon told him, urging him to come with him. 

“Fuck me.” Dr Robby groaned.

If Whitaker heard any more he’d have to change scrubs again. 

9:55AM

Whitaker just stared at the patient board, biting the inside of his mouth. 

“Are you looking for something in particular?” Dr Mohan asked him.

“Anything with a very low potential for mortality.” He said, his first patient loss weighing heavy on his mind. 

“Mm-mm. You’re not playing that game.” Dr Mohan shook her head, glancing at the board.

“Only thing I'm playing is let’s keep the patients alive.” Whitaker stared at a couple of nurses pushing Mr Milton’s body.

“Uh-huh. Well, now we’re playing face your fears.” She encouraged.

Whitaker looked down. “That sounds like a terrible game.”

“What up there scares you the most?” She asked.

Whitaker groaned. “All of it.”

“Pick the worst.” She instructed.

“Uhhhh… south twenty.  82 year old woman, low back pain. I mean that's potential leaking AAA, cauda equina syndrome, spinal epidural abscess, that could go wrong in so many ways.” 

“Not today, amigo. We're gonna work this lady up like a racecar.”

“What does that mean..?”

“It means you’re on the pit crew now.” Dr Mohan said brightly.  “Come on!”

Whitaker hurried after her.